


Thoroughfare of Woe

by orphan_account



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Gen, Yuletide 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis never knew what was going on inside Hathaway's head, but he knew when the lad was thinking too much for his own good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoroughfare of Woe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nocturnal08](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnal08/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide nocturnal08! Your letter intrigued me and I've been meaning to try writing Lewis fic for years. I hope you enjoy your first Yuletide and that you're already thinking about coming back next year. :) This is set around series one. The title is taken from Chaucer's 'The Knights Tale'.
> 
> ETA: Thanks to DS for the beta!

The minute hand ticked back round to the top of the clock again and Robbie shut down his computer with relief. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so glad to see five o'clock on a Friday. It had been one of the most draining weeks of his career, and he was thankful to see the back of it. There was a six-pack in the fridge and the BBC was showing the United match on Saturday, the perfect weekend to recover from the last case. 

Innocent paused in the doorway on her way out. “See you on Monday, Lewis.” 

“Yeah, have a good weekend,” he replied, hoping she wouldn’t stay and make small talk. The last thing Robbie wanted right now was to relive the case they’d just wrapped up.

“Good work on this one, both of you.” 

“Just doing my job, ma’am.” They’d finally caught the bastard, but not before he’d killed four children, preying on them at Sunday school of all places. He’d be going away for a long time but the memory of the anguish on the parents faces dampened Robbie’s satisfaction. 

Innocent looked as if she was going to say something else before thinking better of it and giving him a quick nod. “Still, good work.” With that she left, wrapping her coat tightly around her before stepping out into the rain.

Slipping his own jacket on, Robbie spotted Hathaway still sitting at his desk, staring at his computer and seemingly unaware of office emptying around him. Robbie never knew exactly what was going on inside Hathaway’s head, but he knew when the lad was thinking too much for his own good. If he had to guess, Robbie would say Hathaway was blaming himself for the last death, a nine year old girl called Olivia. They’d broken the case only hours too late to save her. 

That kind of thinking was dangerous for a detective. You couldn’t save everyone, no matter how brilliant you were. Robbie had learned that lesson the hard way and had seen guilt destroy too many good detectives. He wouldn’t let Hathaway go the same way as them.

“Sergeant.” 

“Sir?” Hathaway started and looked around the office, confused as he realised they were the only two left.

“Come on, let’s go get a pint.” If they needed to talk, Robbie needed something stronger than coffee to do it.

*

Rain was pounding against the pavement as they walked through the crowded Oxford streets. The university term didn’t start for another week, so Robbie led the way to the Turf to grab a quiet drink before the students took it over again. 

They took a seat next to the fireplace to dry off. Hathaway took his drink gratefully but was even quieter than usual, making no attempt at conversation. After a few minutes of non-committal grunts Robbie tackled the problem head on.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” 

“We should have saved her.” So it was Olivia. The others, nasty as it had been, had all been taken before they’d been assigned the case which made them easier to deal with. Olivia had been one of the children they’d interviewed in the initial investigation. 

“We did everything we could.” Neither of them had left the station for days, living off coffee, stale sandwiches and stealing the occasional nap in the tea room. 

Hathaway slammed his fist down on the table. “It wasn’t enough.”

“Look here,” Robbie said sharply, “you keep thinking that way and it will eat at you until there’s nothing left. You are too good of a detective to let that happen.”

The anger went out of Hathaway and he slumped in his chair. “She said she was going to pray for God to protect them. And we left him there with them.” He’d been a priest, a supposed man of God. Instead he’d preyed on the children left in his care. 

“You didn’t kill Olivia. You caught her murderer and put him behind bars.” He listed the facts again. They’d done their jobs and he wasn’t going to let Hathaway blame himself for something that wasn’t his fault.

Hathaway stared down at his drink. “It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“It has to be.” Because it was what they had.

“How do you live with it?”

“By knowing that we give the families closure.” It was easier to grieve when you had all the answers, it was something he knew that all too well.

“Doesn’t seem fair, the death of a nine year old.” Hathaway shook his head but Robbie noticed his mood had changed slightly. It seemed that something of what he’d said had got through.

“And take it wel, that we may nat eschue, And namely that to us alle is,” Hathaway muttered.

“Let me guess,” Robbie asked with a long-suffering sigh, “Bloody Shakespeare?” Too many words he understood for it to be Latin and in Oxford those were your two best guesses. 

“Chaucer, actually. The Knight’s Tale.” 

”Like the film?” He had vague memories of going with Valerie, not long before she’d been killed. He remembered a lot of jousting but couldn’t really see how it fit here. 

Hathaway raised an eyebrow. “Loosely.” 

“Come on then, I know you want to tell me.” Hathaway had that look in his eye, the one that wanted to sit him down and teach him everything that Hathaway thought he should know. Though it would mean Hathaway would have less chances to be a smart arse. Still, Robbie could take this if it helped distract him from the case.

“It’s a statement on death. How it awaits us all so we should embrace it,” Hathaway explained. “The rest of the tale is about fighting for the love of a princess and slightly less relevant.”

“Hmm, think I preferred the film version,” Robbie said and cracked a grin at Hathaway’s face. “Too easy, Sergeant, far too easy.” 

Hathaway managed a smile at that and the conversation picked up as they finished their drinks. The rain had eased as they stepped outside again and the sky was clear. Just before they went their separate ways, Hathaway paused. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“Don’t mention it. It helped me as well, you know.”

“It did?” Hathaway looked intrigued. “How?”

“I don’t want to go through the effort of breaking in a new Sergeant. I’d rather keep you around.” 

Hathaway laughed. “Thank you, sir.” 

“Get some rest, Sergeant. I’ll see you on Monday.” Robbie felt better leaving now he was sure Hathaway would stop beating himself up over a death that wasn’t his fault. 

“Good night, sir.” Hathaway nodded and headed off down the street. Robbie headed home with a slightly brighter mood. These cases never got much easier to handle, but if you could learn to deal with them, then you could still help the victims and that made the job worth it.


End file.
